Author . 




Title. 



Book.JjG-SjlS'. 



Class J 



Imprint . 



I 



WITH THE STAGE BUSINEd, CAST OF CHAh- 

ACTKRfl, COSTUMES. RELATIVE POSITIONS 

ETC. 



?;an 



NEW YOBKl 

l^ I French & So* 



T-T:ll^r^^EB& 



LOUDOS 

Samuel Frenen, 

ITELlsHtR, 

S8 S11eiA.TS. .<Jt 



BOOKS IlVERY AMATECTR SHOULD liAVE, 
iSATF.rifS fifinK: or. H^.t. (1-t ..p H,.m. ■r'"»;''«l'^"Wfc'i°!'"'priMS5rt»*' 

4^..,fl.>./'01'!^|•JC0Wl■ icnt (.1/ maiJon receiotot vrux. 



•iS2 Old aad TouLg 



' 4iChar)e»lbe i^^ 
i6 The Brid** 
*« The FolUe» of a Night 
iTIroDClieit IFalrLftflT 
M F«iut Uaart N«t« — 

VO(- VII. 
*0 RoftOI to UuIq 

61 Temp«r 
6-J KrftdQfl 
I U Bertram 
&4 Tbe Du«pnft 
66 Uuob Adn^Wot N 
MTbeCritia 

VOL, V 
Vt The ApMUts 
WTwelfOiNlghl 
(SBrulus 
40 Slmp«ao & Co 
«l Hei-ih»i>lof V«r-lo* 
«■; Old Hefc'lB A Young H VI 



1^^ Uitls Treasure 
1^0 Dombey and Sou 
127 Parents aud UuardJan 



iO*> Af mode us 
303 VormoDs 
206 Blaocbe of BraDdywloe 3 



I 



III. 



ISl Weulock «f Wenlook 
1*"- Rose of Kttrloltvale 
""> Darid Goppertleld 
1 AUoe, or th« Roio of 
' Pauline tKiUarDflT 3 

• Jaoe Krre 

VOL. XVIT!. 



VOL. XXVIII. 
317 Incouftaot 
218 Uncla Tom's Cabia 
-219 Guide to the Stage 



388 Time Trlei All 

VDL. XXXVII, 
289 Ella KnacDburg 
190 Warlock of tbe Olfltf • 

291 ZClhlft tn.i 

■J92 Beatnoe 

293 Neighbor Jackwooa 

■29i Wonder 

29i Robert Kramet 

396 OrewD Bu^hM 
VOL. XXXVIII. 

397 Flowem of the Fore-» 



«5Loi 
I 86 Aa Too Ukt It 

Rider ArvtbcM- 



' 1*3 Rrueot .Mallravtrs 
^1" Bold Dragooni 

VOL. SIX. 
'Ho Dred, or the Dismal 

H8 Last Da.vB of Pom|[.l 



■22i Dark H< 
nS Mldsum 



of New Jersey 
r before Dawn 
Night's Dream 



t Bine UevlU 

VOL. I. 
7SH«r7 Tin 

' i and SlngU 



I 335 Poor Toons Man 
TiQ Ossawatlomle Rrow 
28T Pope of Romo 
nt Oliver Twist 
■-'■J9 Pauvrette 
23« Man iu the Iron U a- 
331 Knigatof ^rva 



irylV 



1155 Freuoh Spy 

(I^ Wept of Wish-ton Wish 

136 ETlIGeaiui 
1.166 Ben Bolt 
1167 Sailor of Fraace 
|l&3 Red Uaak 

159 Life ef an Aotresi 
« Sm B'«ops to Ctoquer ll**) Wedding Day < 



74U*i 

75Hei 
T«Ps 

77 Quj Mannering 
iS Swesibeans «.i.d Wl7M 
> Fwnlly 



233 Black Eved Susan 

234 Saun Id Paris 
'jSS Rosiua Meadows 



302 Naiad Qut. 
SOS Caprice 

504 Cradle of Liberty 

VOL. XXXIX. 

305 The Lost Ship 

306 Country Souire 

307 Fraud and lu Victims 

505 Putnam 

309 KlDg «nd Deserter 

310 La Fiammlna 

311 A Hard Stnigglo 
|313 Owtnnette Vaughaa 
j VOL. XL. 
1313 The LoTc Knot jjudye 



Q<1 the UcTll 318 Evelecn Wilson 



(C'ataloffue ctmtinued on third %mge of corer.) 



THE MINOR 



PRESENTED BY 

JUICE and KKS. 1S4AC R. IHTT, jj 

WASHINGTON, D. C. l| 

D R A-WI^8fP ^ 



HIS LAST LEGS, 



a £axce 



IN TWO ACTS 



BY WILLIAM BAYLE BERNARD, 



« ITH THE STAGE BUSINES, CAST OF CHAR. 

iCTERS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS 

ETC. 



NEW 7 R K : 

SAMUEL FRENCH. 

122 Nassau Siubpt, (Ui GiAirs.) 



I JIOIS 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 



CyCaUagka* 

Cka'le, . 

Rivers 

Dr. Bonis 

John - 

Mrs. Montague 

Julia ' 

Mrs. Bank) 



Haymarket, 1839. 

• Mr. I'ovver. 

■ " Walter Lacy. 
' *' Strickland. 

• " Gough 

■ Mrs. W. Clifford. 
MissTravers. 
Mrs. Gallot. 



Park, I8IT. 
Mr. Collins. 

" A. Aiidrem 

" Fisher. 

" Andrews. 

" Gallot. 
Mrs. Dyott. 
Mis8 Kate Horn. 
Mrs. Burrows. 



COSTUMES. 

O'CALLAGHAN.-Black coat, buttoned np, black pantaloons Urn 

sian boots, shabby hat, liuen mantle, and thick stick. 
CHARLES.— Green frock, light drab trousers, white waistcoat. &o. 
RIVERS.— Nankeen coat, breeches, and gsiters. 
DR. BANKS —A suit of black. 
.JOHN.— Livery. 

MRS. MONTAGUE.-A lilac silk gown, cap, &o. 
JULIA. — White muslin frock. 
MRS. BANKS.— Brown silk dress. 



EXITS AND ENTRANCES. 
R. means jei^A«; L. Left: R. D. Right Door; L. D. Lefl Doo, 
B. li. ^(■<■on<i Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Doo 

RELATIVE POSITIONS. 



Dec. i: 



*36 



?.Hftt 



EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 

The farce of " Ris Last Legs," like most other of Mr. 15er 
■trd's dramatic productions, is destined for a long career of jiub- 
lie favour. The part of O'CaHa^Aan was written for the lat« 
Tyrone Power, and by him of course admirably personified ; 
as recently enacted in New York by Mr. Collins, the perform- 
ance left us nothing to desire. It was peculiarly suited to tliat 
gentleman's powers. In some characters Power was unapproach- 
able , but if we could divest ourselves of the prejudice which we 
have obtained in favour of that lamented actor, we should per- 
haps be compelled to acknowledge, that in O'Callaghan Mr 
Collins is little, if any, hi$ inferior. He was evidently quite ut 
home in the part, and looked and acted it as though he were the 
very hero himself. The character of O'Callaghan is well drawn 
(allowing of course for the usual exaggeration in afterpieces) • 
the situations quite embarrassing enough for any but an Irishman 
to parry ofTor blunder through ; and the dialogue is full of very 
neat play upon phrases and words. The piece has also tho 
great merit, that whilst the hero is continually before the audi- 
ence, the subordinate characters are enabled to stand forth with 
a due degree of vitality, and elicit the powers of respectable ar- 
tistes. 

This piece was first produced at the Haymarket Theatre, on 
the 15th of October, 1839, the cast of which we give on the next 
page. It was highly successful, as may well be imagined, and 
has ever since continued to be a favourite, both with the public 
«nd the delineators of Irish characters. It was first perfonned 
in this country at Mitchell's Olj'mpic, on the Cth of April, 184t> 
Mr. S. Johnson being the O' Callaghan. — It generally occupiei 
one hour and twenty minntes in the representation. 



HIS LAST LEGS 



ACT I. 

80ENG I. — A Street in a country town. An Academy stand* 
R. 8. E., tcitk sign near door, " Birch's Classical Acade- 
my." — A Milliner's Shop stands l. a. e. 

Enter Charles Ritf.rs, with Mrs. Montaove and Miss 
Banks, r. 

Cha. Well, aunt, here is your milliner's; s.x\<i there, I 
Bee her peeping^ through her window, in hopes of a call. 

Mrs. M. Well, then, will you join me in ray visit 1 

Cha. Why, really, as I am not the slightest judge of 
bonnets — 

Mrs. ]\I. [.iside,] You think that an excuse to get a 
tfite-a-tote with Julia. — Very well : you know I'm not ill- 
natured ; so, Julia dear, you can take a turn with Mr, Ri- 
vers whilst I step in. I won't be long. \Exit into milliner's. 

Cha. And this, Julia, is our last walk together, because 
my father has set his heart on ray getting a degree. I must 
return to college this very night. Willy, willy, I must 
part with you, and go back to Greek and Latin— 

Jul. To make 7ne happy, as well as him. 

Cha. You happy ] 

,Tul. Who, living under his roof, and treated with every 
kindness, cannot abuse his confidence by — 

Cha. And is there any need you should \ Have I nc< 
■aid I'd tell him evei-y thing ] 

Jul. Still, you must remember there's another to consult 

Cha. Your mother, whom you expect from town to- 
morrow. 

Jul But only to remain a few days, as we then set out 
for France. 



6 HIS LAST LEGS. [Act I. 

Cha For France 1 

Jul. When our stay fiom England will be quite uncex 
tain. 

Cha. But what's the cause of this? 

Jul. It relates to my poor fatner. 

Cha. Indeed ! 

Jul. You are aware, that, owing to an unfounded jea- 
lousy, he separated from my mother ten years since, and 
went abroad. 

C.Jia. I have heard so. 

Jul. We have lately been informed that hia health is de- 
clining; and, of course, as we are anxious to be reconciled, 
my mother is resolved to go in search of him, when, if we 
should be so fortunate as to accomplish our desire — 

Clia. You'll sit down by his side, and marry, perhaps, 
some one of his choosing. 

Jul. Of course he'd claim a voice in my disposal. 

Clia. Whilst mine would be forgotten — I see it all. If 
you leave me now, we part for ever ! My mind's resolved 
— I'll not leave home to-night. 

Jul. No! 

Cha. No. I'll not stir till I have seen your mother, and 
obtPined from her a pledge that my happiness shall be 
considered. 

Jul. But how is that possible, when your ftither is so im- 
perative 7 

Cha. Why, if force wont do, I'll try a little stratagem. 

Jul. A stratagem ! 

Cha. Yes: I have always one resource. You know 
ours is an old family, and I'm an inly son; conseqiiently 
he's always rather scared if anything's the matter with me. 
Now I'll tell yiiu what I'll do — I'll have ajit of illness. 

Jul. A fit of illness ! 

Cha. Yes, right off. I used t ) be trouble'I with a swim- 
ming in the head — I '11 iiave an attack as we go home ; 
then I shall bo carried up to bed, a physician wil be sent 
for— 

Jul. And your artifice detected. 

Cha. Not so : our doctor's a deuced good old follow— 
I'll let him into the secret ; he'll recommend that I don't 
stir for a week ; and in that time, .Tulia, I may see your 
ciother, and — 



ScesBl.J HIS LAST LEGS. 7 

Jul. I cannot hope it will succeed; and if it slioald lie 
iliscoverori — 

Cha. Well, then father can't complain. He wants mo 
to become a Master of Arts, and he'll see I've some profi- 
ciency already. But Ireie comes my aunt! — now, not a 
word! 

Re-enter Mrs. Mont.^gue Jrmn tlie Milliner's. 

Mrs. Al. Well, have you been walking ? 

Cha. Yes, we've taken a turn or two, and — 

]\Iis. M. And what has this pretty youth been saying t j 
you, Julia? If it's any nonsense, don't believe him — he's 
an aiTant flirt. 

C/ia. I beg your pardon, aunt — I think flirting a great 
waste of time. 

Mrt. M. Do you, Mr. Moralist 1 And yet I can recol- 
lect how you wasted it at Cheltenham. 

Clia. Nearly as much as you did there before me ; do 
yon think I've never heard how you went on with a Mr. 
O'Callaghan? 

Mrs. M. Oh, nonsense ! 

Clia. It was no nonsense then, for yon know you'd hav* 
married him if it hadn't been for giandfather. 

Jill, (k.) Why, I've never heard of this! 

Clia. (c.) Ilavn't you 1 Oh, I'll tell you all about it. 

Mrs. J\I. Really, Charles, I wish you'd hold your tongue. 

Clia. You must know, this Mr. O'Callaghan was the 
reigning star of Cheltenham — kept his hounds and horses, 
and, amonijst other proofs of his good taste, fell in love 
with my aunt. Her fatlier, however, wishing her to have 
a man in Scotland, whipped her away, and soon after, her 
gay Irish swain having spent all his fortune — 

I\lrs. M. Went over to France, and soon after ^(W tliero 
Now you've heard the whole stor)'. [A coacli-liorn is lieara 
outside, R.] Eh ! — why, that's the London coach. Come, 
Come, Charles, they'll be waiting dinner ; you know you 
start fur Cambridcjo at eight. 

Clin. \A.ii<lr.\ Do I, aunt ! — don't be so sure of that 
Not a bad hint, though ; my disorder ought to be commen- 
cing. I'll give her a few symptoms. 

Sirs. M. Now, don't delay; you know how your father 
diitlikes to be kept waitincf. Eh ! why, what's the matter ' 



8 HIS LAST LEGS. [Act 1 

Cka. \Shaking his head.] Why, really I don't know, but 
I've a very odd feeling in my head — a sort of swimming ! 

J\Irs. ]\1. Good heavens, I hope not. 

C/ia. Yes, everything is turning round. It really seems, 
now, as if the pump there was having a waltz with the 
workhouse. 

Mrs. JM. Will you g3 in somewhere and sit down ? 

C/ia. No, I'd rather go home — that is, if I am able. 

J\Irs. M. Then walk slowly, and lean on me, Charles. 

C/ia. Thank you, aunt — thank you. I dare say I shall 

be better by and bye. I have no doubt that by eight 

o'clock I shall be quite restoi'ed ; [Aside.] don't you, Julia 1 

[Exeunt, L., Charles leaning on Mrs. M., and looking 

tenderly at Miss B. 

Enter Dr. Banks, k. 

Dr. B. Yes, I can't be mistaken, though 'tis t»»i years 
since we parted — it must bo she — my own swp'-t child ! 
Now, how to fulfil my object — to separate her from her 
mother, and take her back with me to Franco ' I can't 
use force — my hope rests solely on persuasioa. Luckily, 
I find that she's alone here on a visit; my plan, then, is to 
see her privately, and throw myself on her afle-.tion ; but 
how can this be done ? T want some friend to help me — 
some one who will take a letter to her, and pro<"ure an in 
terview. [O' CaUagken heard without. 

O'Cal. Oh, that's the house, is it ? — thank ye.'oir. 

Dr. B. Eh! who's this coming? — my Irish filluw-pas 
scnger. 

O'Callaoiian enters, r., in a shahhy genteel suit, duriy fi^'.n 
travelling. 

O'Cal. So, then, my journey's at an end, and herd's ir\»f 
destination — " Birch's Classical Academy." 

Dr. B. Good day again, sir. 

O'Cal. Ah, sir, your servant. Do you proceed wi*h \\^ 
oach, or — 

Dr. B. No, sir, I think of staying here a day or tvTO. 

O'Cal. You do? Well, that's odd enough. Do yo>> 
know, sir, that's my case ; I like to go somewhere for tl'<» 
Bummer, and as London just now happens to bo too hot fc 
Ijold me — 



(cere I.] 



HIS LAST LEOS. 9 



Dr. B. You've friends here, I presume. 

O^CaL Yes, sir, a liberal one. \Looking at tlic Aca(ieTTXij\ 
A gentleman who opens his doors to all classes. 

Dr. B. Indeed ! — one of the Old School 1 

O'Cal. Yes, sir, a very old school. [^4i/(fr.] EstabiisheJ 
a centur)' ! 

Dr. B. Do you know, sir, I think I've had the pleasure 
of seeing you before. Your name, I believe, is — 

O'Cal. 6'Callaghen, sir— Felix O'Callaghan, of Kilmotiy 
Abbey — [o.?/f/e] — some years ago. 

Dr. B. O'Callagha'i ! Any connection with the army I 

O'Cal. No, sir, though I've had some knowledge of the 
Fleet. 

Dr. B. [Aside.] 1 wonder if this person would assist 
me ; he's evidently poor, and I think good tempered. 

O'Cal. \ Aside] There's a cut about my friend here thai 
puzzles me. He's too well dressed for a thief, and too me- 
lancholy for a bailiff. 

Dr. B. Perhaps, sir, if you're not engaged, you'll dine 
with me to-day 1 

O'Cal. Really, sir, I thank you, but the fact is, I am en- 
gaged. I came here on a trifling business, and — 

Dr. B. The task you've undertaken is — 

O'Ciil. Not to undertake tasks, but to set them. 

Dr. B. To set them 1 

O'Cal. Yes, sir. I dare say, now, you wouldn't guess 
my profession 1 

Dr. B. I confess, sir, 1 am at a loss. 

O'Cal. Of course, sir, you're aware of the great inteiest 
just now on the subject of education f 

Dr. B. Yes, sir. 

O'Cal. Well, sir, you must know, then, that, partaking 
in the philanthropic spirit of the times, I have resolved to 
devote myself to the welfare of youth. I have come here, 
»ir, to tache reading and writing, and a correct accent io 
English, to the rising generation, in this temple of Mi- 
nerva. 

Dr. B. Why, I never should have thought it. 

O'Cal. I dare say not, sir. I've no doubt I look as if 1 
had more to do with the sinkiii': j^eneration than ihe rising. 

Dr. B. Why, reallv, sir, if 1 iiiny be allowed to say, 



lO HIS LAST LEGS. 



[&.CTI 



O'Cal. Of course — of course. The fact is, sir, you see 
before you one of the unluckiest devils going. Talk oi 
being born under an evil star ! — I think mine was a fiied 
one. For the last dozen years, sir, I've been the football 
of Fortune, and not a gutter could she find that 1 haven't 
been kicked into. 

Dr. B. Then I presume, sir, you were once well off. 

O'CuI. Well ofl', sir? I had one of the best estates in 
Ireland — I had as fine a set of tradesmen as a man could 
be born to — I had a tailor, and a stable-keeper, and butch- 
er, and baker, that hadn't been paid since the death of 
my grandfather ! It was utterly impossible to be in asier 
circumstances ; but to show you the doom, sir, that from 
my boyhood hung over me, one of them chose to die, 
and another to hang himself, till at last, sir, they left me 
in a state of destitution. Yes, sir, they had the cruelty 
to lave me to get my own living, after leading me to think 
that they'd keep me all my days, and even buri/ me after- 
wards. 

Dr. B. That was unfortunate. 

O'Cal. It was, sir. After that I was reduced to the dis- 
grace of living on my wits, and, by my honour, I found 
them a worse stock than South American shares. Would 
you believe it, sir, that I've tried a hundred schemes for a 
living, and not one of 'em's answered. I've failed, sir, 
E.s often as the most flourishing tradesman ! Call For 
tune inconstant ! — by my honour, sir, she's been as constant 
to me as a thunder-storm in tue tropics. T'l give you a 
proof, sir. I wrote a book upon charity, which lodged me 
in prison. I invented a steam-engine, which scalded all 
my shareholders. And I opened a ball-room at a water- 
ing-place in the year it had the cholera ! At last, sir, find- 
ing that, like corn in a sack, with every shake I got lower, 
I resolved to give up the stiiiggle, and bury myself in some 
calm country nook ; when, happening to see an advertiso- 
inent fror* a school in this village — 

Dr. B. You're now become its teacher. 

O'i^al. Yes, sir. This is the age of revolutions, and 
you now see mine — a fellow who once set examples to 
dandles, destined henceforward to set copies to boys ! 

Dr. B. [.isiJe.] This is tie very person for my purpose. 
VS ell, sir, I sympntliisc in yiur reverses, and shall be hap- 



Hers. 1.1 H!S LAST LEGS. 



11 



py, when \.)u re settled, if you'll oblige me with a calL 1 
uliall be 8tayii)g at the inn. 

O'Cu/. .Sir, 1 shall be mo=t happy. 

Dr. B. Tliere's my card, if you should ever go to Paris. 
\Gircs -t] And perhaps I shall have the pleasure of seeing 
you this evening, [.-liii/c] The very man for ne ! — ho 
vrants money, and he has address. 

[Goc; iff, L. O'CallagJian loohs at the card. 

O'Cal. D-. Banks, No. lo, Rue de la Victoire, Taris !" 
A very civil ohi gentleman ! Well, then, now for my new 
al)ode I I must "put myself to rights, though. My ward- 
robe's in a very delicate state of health, and a brush wou}d 
just now be a danijcrous cathartic. I was obliged tc have 
my coat turned for this journey ; though that I didn't mind 
— I'm not the first man that's turned his coat to get into of- 
fice. My trousers I resuscitated with a bottle of " Scott'a 
lleviver" — that's what I call being reduced to a (h/cr ne- 
cessity. Come, now, that will do ; and 1 hope they haven't 
done dinner. My ride from London has given me an ap- 
petite ; I feel as if I could illustrate a lecture on geology 
— show the beauty of tlie system of one layer upon ano- 
ther. [Knorks at door in R. F.] And this is my future home. 
These hallowed cells — 

" Where ever-musing Meditation dwells !" 
Welcome, then, thrice welcome to ye, venerable pile ! 
To your calm sliades, like the Roman of old, do I retreat 
from contention. Like another Cincinnatus, I turn my 
back on the capital, and say, " Fortune, thou Janus, 1 defy 
thee for the future !" [^Servant opens the door. He goes in 

John runs in l. 

John. Here's a pretty business! — my young master taken 
ill, and no doctor to be found. I've been to our surgeon, 
and he's been called away to Cambridge ; what's to ba 
done! — there's only an apothecary besides in the village 
Well, I must run to him — I can't return without assis 
tance. Dear, dear ! was ever anything so cruel ! 

J Huns off, I,. 

0'C\\.\.\an\.\ comes J'rom Academtj, followed hi, Tiipmas 

O'C'i'. I tell you, sir, you're wrong — it can't bo. 



12 HIS LAST LEGS. 



[Act I 



77/1?. liuleeJ, it's true sir — our new usher amvcd ycster- 
day. 

O'Cal. But I tell you, sir, I'm the man ! — I answered 
f.he atlvfiitisement, and accepted the terms. 

T/w. Yes, sir, but I think I heard my master say you 
didn't reply by the time ho mentioned ; so, as the schooj 
opened to-day, and he couldn't wait — 

O'Cal. Then you mean to tell me, that after coming 
down here, fifty miles from London, I f.ud another man in 
ray shoes 1 

Tlio. I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir. 

O'Cal. Sorry, sir ! 

TIw. It's all owing to a mistake, sir. 

O'Cal. Mistake! — it's an insult ; and if your master was 
a gentleman — How will he dare show his face to me al 
dinner 1 

T/io. At dinner, sir 1 

O'Cal, Yes, sir; how will he have the face even to ask 
me to sleep here 1 

Tho. To sleep here, sir? 

O'Cal. Yes, sir, of course he's got a bed for mc. 

Tho. Indeed he hasn't, sir; we haven't room to ciam a 
satchell in. 

O' Cah Tlien where am 1 to go 1 

Tho. You'll get a good bed at the Inn, sir. 

O'Cal. The inn, sir ! Divil burn it, do you take me for 
Croesus, sir ? — who's to pay the inn, sir ] I insist on stay- 
ing here. Where is your master ? 

Thu. I said he was from home, sir. 

O'Cal. Not at home ! 

Tho. No, sir. 

O'Cal. And where's he gone to ? 

Tho. He's gone to York, sir^ and won't be back till 
Christmas. [Goes in ami shuts door in fiat, r. 

O'Cal. The unnatural old villain ! — to turn me ofl" In 
this way upon the dirtiest quibble, and even lefuse rre a 
mouthful of dinner ! I'll go bail, now, that that feWovt 
would skin a Hint for a living, and make soup of the shav- 
ings. ]3y my soul, if I could find him, I'd set his boys a 
copy ! — I'd rule his back with my stick from die neck to 
the crupper, and write rogue in round-text between every 
lino of it So, then, after all my hopes and trouble, i'i\ 



kcEREl] HIS LAST LE iS. 13 

failed again I I thoiiglit I'd come to the worst, wlien 1 
iionsented to turn njckass among this fellow's cliickeiw 
but n(>, Felix, my friend — even this was too good fir you ! 
What the devil's to be done \^ Here am I, in a strange 
place, at the close of day, with only one and ninepence in 
my pocket — one shilling and one ninepence — the sole sur- 
vivors of the last respected sovereign that reigned in my 
dominions ! 

Re-enter John, hastily, L, 

John. What will be done ! — the apothecary's ill in bod 
with rheumatism ; he can't be moved upon a litter. 

[ Crosses, R. 

O'Cal. Only this ? — why, it wouldn't pay for the loan 
of a toothpick ! 

John. If he doesn't get assistance he'll be dead before 
the morning. 

O'Cal. What can be bought with one shilling and one 
njnepencc ! 

John. Master, I know, would give a hundred pounds. 

O'Cal. ^Turning.] A hundred pounds ! — for what ! 

John. A doctor, sir; young Mr. Rivers has been taken 
ill. Our physician is from home, and — Eh ! who's that 
going into his house 1 — perhaps he's come back ; I'll run 
and see. ^Runs off, v.. 

O^Cal. A hundred pounds! — is there so much money 
in the world f — and for a doctor ! a fellow whose business 
is' to play chequers with the nation. The game with his 
fraternity is, who'll move off the most. By my honour, I 
think, if there's one delusion going that's greater than ano- 
ther, it's what they call doctoring, which 1 take to be the 
art of amusing a patient while Nature performs the cure. 
A hundred pounds fir one, and no one to be found ! 1 
wonder if / could be of any use here ! — I know some- 
thing of horse-doctoring, if that would do ; and I always 
rnny about me a case of surgical inst-uments — a jack 
knife with seven blades. \'rakcs it out.] Let me reflect. 
I've tried a hundred schemes, for which I was well quali- 
ficv^, and every one has failed ! — who knows, now, if I wert> 
to try one of which / know nothing, but what I should sue- 



14 HIS LAST LEGS. AcT I. 

Re-enter John, r. 

John, (b.) No, it was not liim ! — he'll not be back till 
mulniglit. 

O'Cal. [Aside, I,.) For a feel of liis pulse, and a shake 
uf my head, I might get a fee that would take me back 
to London. 

Jo/in. My poor young master ! — then there's no hope 
for him ! 

O'Cal. Young man, I'm a stranger here ; but if I can 
be of any service — 

John. What, sir! are you a doctor ? 

O'Cal. Why, I 2"'ofess medicine. [.IjiVZc] And that's 
true enough, as I know nothing about it. 

Jo/in. And will you como with me, sir? 

O'Cal. Of course I will. I'll see your master; but re- 
raem'oer — I don't say I can do him any good. 

Jolin. But you'll try, sir? 

O'Cal. To be sure I will — I'll try. 

John. Well, sir, no one can do more. 

O'Cal. Of course not ; and in my case, [ai!(??] no one 
can do less. Well, then, you may run on and announce 
me. Stop — \He pauses — John runs off at hack and turns.\ 
What urges me to undertake this step ? — what, but the 
source of all great undertakings — hunger ! Arts, books, 
and revolutions — all have owed their origin, not to the 
heart or brain, but to the stomach ! — ergo, I have the war- 
rant of all the sages of antiquity ! 

John. Now, sir — don't stay, for heaven's sake ! My 
master may be half dead. 

O'Cal. [.4s/</e.) And if he isn't, lam. So, go along, 
young man ; I'm sure of one thirg — if I don't cure his 
complaint, I shall mine. [Follows John off, l. 

Scene li. — A Chamber at Mr. Rivers' s. — Mrs. Monta- 
gue, R., and Charles recliinng on a sofa, c, disMvered 
— A table with writing tnaterials, l. 

Enter Rivers, l. 

Riv. Kow is he now, Lyddy ? 

Mrs. M. Why, nut in so much pain, I think but still 

very restless. 



ECLKE irO H'S LAST lEGS. 15 

Rir. (l.) It's really most surjinsinj» — he was quite well 
this morning — swallowed a breakfast for a ploughman: 
half-a-dozen eggs, nearly a pound of ham, and 1 think a 
quart of cufl'ee. 

Mis. I\I. He first complained as we were about to leave 
the village, gradually grew worse as we crossed the fields, 
and when we reached the door — 

[C/tarles groans and liicfcs — iJiey run to Jiim. 

Cha. Oh! 

Riv. Poor boy — what suffering he's in ; that scoundrel 
of a John to stay so ; and that brute of a doctor ! 

Mrs. M. Charles, are you better now 1 — tell us where 
your pain is. 

CIta. Why, aunt, just at present there's a gnawing sen- 
sation here — another there — and now, the spasm comes 
again — oh ! 

Riv. My poor dear boy ! 

Betty runs in, l. 

Bet. John has come back, sir, but he has brought a 
stranger with him. 

Riv. A stranger? 

Bet. Yes, sir, a gentleman from London. 

Riv. Why, who can it be ? Lyddy, try to compose 
Charles a little, whilst I go and see him. [Exit, l. 

Mrs. M. Your head aches still, Charles — here's some 
more Eau-de-Cologne. Eh ! no, I've emptied the bottle. 
Hetty, run up to my room, and in the drawer nearest to 
the window — stay, I'll go for it myself; do you stay and 
watch him. [Exit, n. 

Bel. I stay and watch him — I had much rather not. I 
never had courage to turn nurse, or I might have had a 
charminc: situation in a small-pox hospital. Suppose, now, 
ne should go out of his mind ? — ho looks very strange. 
Why, he's getting up — he's going to spring at me — Here! 
niiirder ! help ! [She runs off, i,. Hr. jumps up laugliing, 

Cha. Ha ! ha ! Victory, victory ! Was ever father 
and cousin, and faithful maid servant, so finely bam- 
boozled. Well, my first ])oiiit's gained. I shan't leave 
h<ime to-night ; the question is, shall I remain over to- 
morrow ? — that depends upon the doctor, and I think 
there's no fear of bis consent, when I have once cxplaiv. 



16 HIS LAST LEGS. 



[Aci 1 



oci iny secret. Eh ! there's some one coming, I must back 
to my sofa — I must liave a relapse. 

( Throics himself on the s'ifa and begins to hick — Rivers 
reiurns xvilh O'Cam.agiian', l. 

Rui. Here's your patient, sir; and as I stated to you, 
the attack has been most sudden — he was quite well this 
morning, and — \0^ CaUaghan ^oes vp to Charles aud feels 
his pulse.] Rather an odd looking man, and a stranger. I 
should be cautious — but then, what have looks to do with 
talents ? If we judged nuts by their shells, who, pray, 
would crack them % \ 0' Callaghan comes down, r., and looks 
gravel)/ at Bivers.] Well, sir, what's your opinion ? 

O'Cal. May I ask, sir, if that young gentleman is your 
only son ! 

liiv. He is, sir. 

O'Cal. 1 regret to hear it. May I ask if be has a mo- 
ther, sir ] 

Riv. No, sir, she has been dead some years. 

O'Cal. Well, I'm glad to hear i/(o<. 

Riv. Why glad, sir ] 

O'Cal. Why, sir, painful as the task may be, I feel I 
Lhould be wanting in my duty if 1 did not acquaint you, 
that — 

Riv. Good heavens ! do you mean to say there's any 
danger ? 

O'Cal. There's more than danger, sir. 

Riv. Is it possible ! 

O'Cal. That amiable young man, sir, cannot exist six 
hours. 

Cka. \Liftlng his head.] What's that ? 

Riv. But what's his complaint, sir ] 

O'Cal. Why, sir, I confess that puzzles me. I can't 
Bay I ever saw it before, but I can explain its origin. It's 
what we call a febrifuge — that is, you see, the pineal gland 
having been morbidly excited by the peritoneum ducts, a 
contractility has ensued of the cellular tissue of the caver- 
nous membrane ; you understand me ? 

Rin. Perfectly. 

O'Cal. \ Aside.] Then you are a wiser man than T am.— 
This, yini see, sir, must be fatal unless ir.stantly checked : 
however, my treatment's very decided, so I shall proceed 
to bleed him, t^ir, and yuu will oblige me by orderilig up 
a tub. 



bceneIi.j his last legs. 17 

Cha. A tub I 

O'Cal. When I have relieved him of a gallon or two, I 
fthall shave his heaJ, apply a blister to his back and sto- 
mach, and then with a draught every hour, and a dozen 
leoches to his eyelids, I think he may do. 

C'ta. Do ! yes, I shall do, for a coffin. 

Riv. This draught, sir, of course, must be obtained di- 
rectly. There's paper on the table, will you write for it t 

O'Cal. I will, sir. [Sits at the table and writes, R.J So 
far, 80 well ; now for ttie prescription. 

Hirers. \Asiile.] His treatment is decided, certainly. 
Why, he talks of taking blood from a man like beer from 
a vat. 

O'Cal, [Rising with paper.] There, I think that it is in 
the usual style. [Reads il.\ " Cal — Sen — Sas — Ihjdrarg 
— Fd — three snakes' tails and a lot of triangles." To be 
sure, the apothecary won't be able to read it, but so much 
the better, then ; for once in his life, he can't do any mis- 
chief. — There, sir, you'll get that made up as soon as poa- 
sible. 

Riv. In half an hour, sir — my servant shall go with it on 
horseback — here, Robin, John ! [Exit, i,. Charles rises. 

Cha. Now, I think it's time to put a stop to this mur 
der, sir. 

O'Cal What's this! 

Cha. You'll allow me to acquaint you, that — 

O'Cal. Not indisposed ] 

Cha. (r.) Yes, sir, I am indisposed to undergo your 
treatment. I'll not trouble you to take away a gallon of 
my blood, nor do I think it would improve my personal 
appearance to have twenty leeches hanging to my eyelids. 

O'Cal. Then I've been imposed upon. 

Cha. Why, of course, I don't deny I've deceived you, 
cr.t if you'll allow me to state the cause — 

O'Cal. [Aside.\ Phew! here's a deliverance. 

[ Crosses to R. 

Ckn. I'm sure you'll see the necessity, and — 

O'Cal. Then, in few %Yords, sir, f)r some purpose of 
your own, you have presumed to trifle with your fiiends, 
and offer this insult to a member of the faculty 1 

Chci. Insult, sir — I meant no insult, sir. 

O'Cil. But you have done it. sir — you have ch.i9«n to 



18 HIS LAST LEGS. 



[Act! 



bring into contempt one of the most respectable profes- 
sions. 1 have but one reply, — to call in your fatlier, ex- 
pose your conduct, and — 

did. No, no; for heaven's sake, sir; I'm sure, when 
you know the reason of my artifice, you will pity and for- 
give it. It was a last resource to preserve my happiness 
— to remain near a lovely and devoted girl, who is about 
to leave the country. 

O'Cal. But what is this to me, sir; you have brought 
ine here, a perfect stranger, wasted my time, trifled with 
my feelings — 

Cha. And do you think without a view of recompense 1 
If twenty guineas will be any compensation — 

O'Cal. Twenty guineas I 

Cha. I offer it with pleasure. 

O'Cal. Well, sir, since you throw yourself upon my 
huynanittj — 

Cha. E.xactly so. 

O'Cal. Since you confide in my feelings, and have not 
scrupled to disclose to me your secret — 

Cha. Yes, sir. 

O'Cah I feel I should .^spond to your appeal by ira- 
Darting to you a secret in reply. 

Cha. Indeed ! 

O'Cal. You've assured me, on your honour, that you're 
no sick man 1 

Cha. No, sir. 

O'Cal. Allow me, then, in the strictest confidence, to ac- 
quaint you in return, that I'm no doctor .' 

Cha. What's that ? 

O'Cal. But, on the contrary, a patient like yourself, 
who has undergone a deal of bad treatment. 

Cha. Then what brought you here, sir? 

O'Cal. Ah! there my object WS3 medical enough — I 
came for a fee. 

Cha. And you have had the impudence to torture my 
{eelings and impose upon my respected parent! 

O'Cal Why, on the point of impudence, 1 really don't 
lluiik wo should be vain on either s.de. 

Cha. I'm thunderstruck ! 

0'('<'L Well, sir, if your keen sense of morality is iv 
gter''' lutraged, of course, I'll leave the house, and— 



KCKHE II.] 



HIS LAhT LEGS 19 



Clia. No, no; I didn't say that; but — ha! ha! upon 
rcy word, it's very oJd. 

O'Cal. Isn't it ? 

Cha. You're from Ireland, I perceive. 

O' Cal. Ves, sir. 

C/iii. Any business'? 

O'Cal. Why, I have taught the sciences. 

Cl/n. In what branch 1 

O'Cal. Comparative anatomy. I've illustrated for the 
last six years, how a man, like a cameleon, may live upon 
air. 

C/ia. Well, I must say you look as if you had been run- 
nirie; down hill. 

O'CdI. Yes, sir; and as if I had been having my run 
on the side of the Andes, I've been running down hill for 
tlie last ten years, and divil take me if I can get to the bot- 
tom. 

Cha. Well, if it's worth your while to stop here, I don'. 
3ee why our agreement should be vitiated. 

O' Cal. You don't ! 

Cha. If the twenty guineas will pay you for your delay 
ve may as well retain our characters, I can continue my 
ilhiess. and — 

(y Cal. I can cure you, now I know your disease. 

Chd. Then it's a bargain 1 

O'Cal. There's my hand. 

Cha. Agreed ; but I say, you must take care of one 
thing — our doctor ; he'll be sure to call, and if he should 
talk to you — 

O'Cal. He'll illustrate the Latin maxim — " E.\ nihilo, 
nil fit." 

Cha. Well, then, that point's settled. I shall maintain 
my acquaintance with my dearest Julia — 

O'Cal. And I renew my acquaintance w'th a dinner ta- 
ble. 

Cha. Ha! ha! — If you'd like to extend your practice, 
I can liel[) you to a patient. Here's my aunt, Mrs. Mon- 
t.igiif, is rather poorlv. 

O'Cal. Wlio ! 

Chd. Mrs. Montaniie. 

O' ( «/. " That well-known name awakens all my wv.«tl" 
May I ask if the lady comes from Yoikshire ? 



20 HIS LAST LEGS. [Art k 

Cha. She djee. 

O'Cal. And her maiden name was — 

Cha. Rivers. 

O'Cal. [Aside.\ By all the graces, it's herself! — here 
would be a meeting. I should be blown directly, lose my 
twenty pounds, and — 

Rio. [Outside.] Betty, send John up th3 instant he 
comes in. 

C/ia. Eh ! — here's my father coming. 

O' Cal. Well, then, down with you and pretend to sleep. 
I must give the old fellow a taste of my ability. 

[Charles returns to the sofa and composes himself. — 
O' CaUaghan. takes a -hair. 

Enter Riters, l. 

Riv. Well, sir, I've despatched the servant ; and how is 
he now ? 

O'Cal. Observe! 

Riv. Asleep ! 

O' Cal. Yes, sir, as tranquilly as when he rested on hia 
mother's bosom. 

Riv. 1 declare, so he is. 

O'Cal. When he wakes, I've no doubt you'll see a greal 
change in him. 

Rio. Why, sir, you're a conjuror. I left him in agonies 
and he's now at rest, without the appearance of a throb ; 
how did you effect this signal transition ? 

O' Cal. Why, sir, I don't like broaching the secret of 
our art, but if you really wish to know — 

Riv. I have the greatest desire. 

O'Cal. Well, then, sir, of course you've heard of the 
agency of magnetism. 

Riv. Magnetism 1 

O' Cal. That fact! in physics that when two people come 
togethe'', who correspond in tempera?nent, the one has the 
power to control the motions of the other. 

Riv. I have heard of it. 

O'Ciil. Well, sir, seeing that your son's disorder was 
not of the common kind, I resolved to try its influence. 1 
goon discovered that there was an ajjini'.ij between us, and 
that it lay in my power to be of serTi;e to him. So, as 
we •'»]r, air, I put myself in a "state of agreement with 



SCEKE II.] 



HIS LAST LEGS. 2l 



him," and you see the reoult — his pain Jiaappeared, hia 
anxiety ceased. 

Iliv. And all tliis prod'jced by — 

O'Cal. A few passes of the hand, sir; did youniver 
see the process ? It's tlie simplest in the world — it's in 
this manner. [Passes /lis hand over Rhers' face. 

liii: How very singular; then, if I understand you, 
you and my son are in a slate of agreement ] 

O'Cul. Exactly so. 

Riv. Wkich enables you to control all his movements— 

O'Cal. Precisely. 

Riv. How very wonderfiil ! 

O'Cal. If he was to move now, I'd give you proof of it 
Eh ! I think he's stirring — now observe, sir, by raising my 
liand in this manner, he extends his right arm, and by 
dropping it so, he lifts his left leg, 

[C/iarles ohet/s his directions. 

Riv. Why, I can't believe my eyes. 

O'Cal. Obser\-e again, sir: by passing my hand in this 
way, I draw off the magnetic influence, and allow him to 
wake — then of course the pain returns, and he exhibits all 
tlie usual phenomena. [Makes a few passes. Charles pre- 
tends to make turns, tcrithcs, and at length howls. 

liiv. I see, I see. 

O'Cal. And, now, sir, to recompose him. [Makes somt 
more passes, and Charles sinks back again into sleep. 

Rir. It's absolute magic. 

O'Cal. And yet, sir, it's produced by nothing more than 
a motion that way, and another that. 

[First making passes at Rivers, and tkcu telegraphing 
Charles. 

Eiv. This is a very wonderful man ; 1 must know more 
about him. May I be allowed, sir, to ask the name of a 
gentleman so skilled in his profession ? 

0'C(d. [Aside.] My name — that's a puzzler. I ca\i't 
say O'Callaghan, on Mrs. M.'s account. 

Riv. If you've a card about you, I shall be most hajijiy 
to receive it. 

O'Cal. A card! why, really, sir, I'm afraid I — [Feels in 
his pocket,] — yes, hero is a card, sure enough. — My fellow 
passenger's — and as luck will have it, he's a doctor. Ah, 
:he very thing — there, sir. 



V2 HIS LAST LEGS. ^AcT I 

Rh: "Dr. Bxnhs, No. 15 Rz*e Vicloire, Parh." 

O'Cal. Yes, sir. 

Kii>. [Aside.] Can it be possible ? — this is the name and 
the address of Julia's father. 

O'Cal. [Aside] The old gentleman seems struck with 
me. 

Riv. [Aside^ That unha )py man, who, for so many 
years, has been estranged from his family — 

O'Cal, [Aside] It's my card that tickles him; how lucky 
I had it. 

Riv. [Aside] He has returned to England, then, and, 
in this unlooked-fbr manner, found his way into my house. 

Enter John, l. 

John. Please, sir, when would you like dinner? 

Riv. Now, if it's ready. 

O'Cal. [Aside] Dinner! that sound rouses me like a 
trumpet. 

Riv. Call Mrs. Montague. 

O' Cal. [Aside.] And that settles me like an avalanche. 

[Exit John, L. 

Riv. Dr. Banks, I hope you've no engagement — you'!i 
dine with us to-day ] 

O'Cal. Well, sir, I've no objection. I always like to eat 
at this time for a philosophical reason. 

Riv. Indeed, what's that, pray 1 

O'Cal. Because, sir — "Nature abhors a vacuum." 

Riv. [Aside] He must not know his child is here, at 
least till I ascertain his sentiments — then who knows bul 
I may be the means of bringing them together. 

Enter Mns. Montague, r. 

Mrs. M. Is it possible ? — Charles fast asleep ! 

Riv. Yes, Lyddy, without pain or fever ; we owe hia 
ease, perhaps his life, to the singular skill of this gentle- 
man. Allow me, sir, to introduce you to my sister, Mr«. 
Montague. [Leading ]\lrs. M.Jhruard — she recognizes him. 

Mrs. M. Can it be ? 

Riv. Why, what's the matter 7 

Mrs. M. Support me — it's his spirit. 

[Sinlis iftto a chair, r., screamtttg. 

iTCal. Doi't be alarmed, sir — a touth of the Jailing 



h.^tir. II.] Ill:; LAST LEO«. CJ 

sickness, that's all — limbs weak, mind disordered, ♦vtiight 
wandering. 

3Irs. .¥. Mr. O'Callaglian ! 

O'Cal. Exactly so. There's a symptom, sir! — takoa 
me for some friend of her's. May I trouble you for a 
glass of water, whilst I operate upon the lady. 

Rir. I'll fetch it directly — how very odd; is there an 
epidemic raging? [E£it,\.. 

Mrs. M. Mr. O'Callaghan, what does this mean t 

O'Cal. Mean, my angel! what should it mean, bjf — 

Mrs. M. What brought you here, sir 1 

O'Cal. You, madam. 

Mrs. M. 1 1 

O'Cal. Of course, to speak to you, to look at you, to 
gaze upon that face once more, which for ten long years 
lias been the one bright star amidst my darkness. 1 have 
dared all things. 

Mrs. M. Is it possible ? 

O'Cal. It is truth, by all the pangs that I now feel her« 
—no, here. 

R«-enter Rivers, with water, l. — Betty comes from t/tt 
back. 

nil'. Here's the water, doctor. 

O'Cal. That's not wanted. 

JScl. Dinner's served, sir. 

O'Cal. That is. 

Rir. Is she restored ? 

O'Cal. Perfectly, sir. 

Riv. And how did you effect it f 

O'Cal. Oh, the old way, you know. [Makes passes, 

Riv. What a very wonderful man ! 

C/ia. [Asiilc] Why, what the deuce ! has he been mag- 
netising my aunl 7 

Riv. Well, doctor, will you give Mrs. M. your arm 1 
Now, Betty, mind no one disturbs Charles — he's in a sv\ ect 
•leep ; and really, this person's talent is almost supernatu- 
'«i. [E.rit, L. — O'Callaghan giring ]\bs. j\I. his arm, is fol- 
lowing. Charles rises foom the sofa. 

Cha. I say, old fellow, it's all right. 

VCa'. Itigl I ! — by my soul, vre'rt' as right as a twf> 



2-1 MIS LAST LEGS. ^ncr I 

year-'jid fox on '.he floor of a henroost ; come along, mj 
angel. [Leads her out — drop descend*. 

END OF ACT I. 



ACT II. 

Scene I. — Parlours of the Villa, same as Act I., elegan y 
Jumished, opening at back vpon a lawn — doors l. and u. 

Enter Rivers, tcit/i Julia, at door, l. 

Riv. Now, Julia, we're alone, and I can make my dis- 
closure. You observed that gentleman at table ? 

Jul. Yes, sir. 

Riv. Did you foel any mysterious inclination to throw 
yourself upon his bosom. 

Jul. Not I, indeed, sir. 

Riv. Of course you recollect your Jatlier ? 

Jul. I regret to say, but imperfectly ; you must remem- 
ber he has been away ten years, and — 

Riv. But yoa are sure of one thing, that he resides in 
Paris 1 

Jul. Quite sure, sir. 

Riv, And you know even the street 1 

Jul. The Kue Victoire, No. 15. 

Eiv. Well, then, you may judge my feelings, when, on 
asking this stranger for his card, he put this into my hand. 

[Gives her the card. 

Jul. Is it possible ! Oh, let me fly to him ! 

Riv. Not so — that might ruin all ; you know his chamc- 
ler is proud and sensitive, and, labouring under tho delu- 
sion that he does, he must be approached with caution. I 
know if 1 were abrupt with him, he'd instantly take fi -e 
I must get him alone, lull his suspicions, rouse his symj a- 
thies. Eh, some one's coming — perhaps it's he; let a« 
retire a moment, and prepare for the attempt. 

[Exit Jcith Julia at hark, l. U, 

Cii/LULES and O'Cali.aghan come from i,. 
Cha. So you liked your dinner 1 



gctwE I.] t'iS LAST LtGS. 25 

0' Cal. My dinner] my hanqiict, si."! Such 8.)U[), such 
fis.h, and wild fowl, I never saw upon table — aiid as for 
tlie claret, by my soul, when I drank it, I couldn't help 
wisliing I liad as many mouths as the Gancrcs. 

Cha. But tell me whit has passed ; my father, you say, 
lias no suspicions. 

O'CaL Suspicions ! — he's as confiding as a sucking pig; 
he's so grateful for the good I've done to you, that lie's re- 
solved 1 shall sleep here to-night, in order to be ne;ir my 
patient. 

C/ia. Ha ! ha ! —how very kind of hira ! 

O'Cal. Wasn't it; to reward his anxiety, I begged to 
withdraw and see how you were doing. Of course, I find 
you much better, but unable to leave home for a fortnight. 

C/ia, That, at the earliest. 

O'Cal. Now, my dear friend, I must tell you, that there's 
only one chance of this little compact of ours be Jig knock- 
ed on the head. 

C/ia. And what's that ? 

O'Cal. There's a lady here that I had the honour of 
knowing formerly. 

C/ia. You don't mean my aunt 1 

O' Cal. I do : and as she has requested an explanation, 
I suppose the best plan is to confess. 

C/ta. Not for the world — she's as scrupulous as an old 
maid, and as Julia is her friend, she'd tell my father in 
Btantly. 

O'Cal. Ohe! 

C/ia. You must satisfy her with some account. 

O'Cal. But what if she is rather clever in investigating 
accounts ? 

Cha. Well, then, if nothing else will do, you must treai 
her as you have done ray father — you must magnetise her. 

O'Cal. Why, I have done that already. 

Cha. Eh ! why, I see her in the garden, evidently with 
a viewtif speaking to you. I'll leave you, then ; but, for 
heaven's sake, be cautious ! \Exit throvgh thor, u. 

O'Cal. Faith, Felix, my friend, I begin to think tlia 
ride's turning — I'm decidedly in luck at present ; I'm hous- 
ed here for to-night, and can go back to town with a sum 
\n ray pocket that will start a new enterprise ; my only 
fear is, mv old friend liere, she who was once to have been 



86 HIS lA^r LEGS. Act II 

Mrs O'Callaglian. How odd our meeting, aftei ten years' 
Beparation. Of course, she foigets the past now — she has 
a husband, and though she was forced to marry liim, she 
must like him by this time, for time, they say, endears all 
things ; though I rather doubt that maxim, for I've known 
povfiiji for some years, and divil take me if time has en- 
deared that. 

Mrs. Montague advances from, the hack, l. c. 

Mrs. M. Mr. O'Callaghan ! 

O'Cal. \Turning.\ Mrs. Montague. 

Mrs. M. At length we're alone, and of course you can- 
not wonder at my surprise. I really thought that you were 
dead. 

O'Cal. Well, T don't say I've been living — I've been a 
sort of Dervise since we parted, a man who wanders and 
fasts. 

Mrs. M, Then your present profession you adopted from 
necessity ? 

O'Cal. Yes, madam— absolute necessity, I assure you. 

Mrs. M. Of course you're manied 1 

O'Cal. Indeed I'm not — I'm still punishing the sex for 
your falsehood — I'm as free as air, — and as empfi/. 

Mrs. AI. [Aside.] Poor fellow, then lie has kept his 
word, if I have not. — I am to conclude, then, that you're 
aware of my present situation 1 

O'Cal. Oh, don't mention it — consider my feelings. 

Mrs. M. You have heard that I'm a widow, and — 

O'Cal. A what? 

Mrs. M. A widow. 

O' Cal. [Aside.] Pililoo, here's news ! 

Mrs. M. 'Tis now only six months since I have left off 
mourning. 

O' Cal. To a day, madam. I have counted every Lour 
of it. 

Mrs. M. But you seem to be in sables still. 

O'Cal. Yes, madam, I have worn black ever since that 
fatal morning which — [SigJit. 

Mrs. M. [Aside.] Was thoro ever such fidelity ! 

O'Cal. After I lost her in whom my soul was centered, 
what had I done, but buried the whole world. 

3Irs. AT. I heard that you had spent your fortune, — '.hal 
you'd become very dissipated. 



gCEBE I ] HIS r.AST LEGS. •. I 

O'Cal. And can you wonder] what wont ii man do to 
stifle his despair] 

Mrs. J\I. [Aside.] Poor fellow — how his attachtnent 
touches inc ] 

O'Cal. Look at me, madam — this faded form! this 
sunken eye ! — did you ever on the Coast of Cornwall see 
a greater wreck? — I wont afflict you with the story of my 
downfall. Suffice it, that since I lost you, I have passed 
ttrough every stage of misery, from sunshine and chaii>- 
pagne, to clouds and heavy wet. 

]\Irs. M. Well, then, to explain my visit here. I must 
tell you that the fortune I've been left — 

O' Cal. Oh, don't speak of fortune, you know how I 
despise it. 

Mrs. M. [Astic] His sentiments are as noble as ever — 
is an estate in Yorkshire, which, removing me from all so 
ciety, I am anxious to exchange. 

O'Cal. Oh, then you're in want of society, and you're 
troubled with an estate 1 

Mrs. M. Exactly so. 

O' Cal. Well, then, my darling, how lucky is this meet 
ing; for here am 1, who can give you the one, and relieve 
you of the other. 

J\Irs. M. You're very kind, but my brother will do that. 

O'Cal. Fob ! poh ! it's not a brother that you want, it's 
a husband. 

Mrs. M. A husband ! 

O'Cal. Of course! don't you say you want to change 
your estate ] 

Mrs. M. Well, well : but you know what I mean. 

O'Cal. To bo sure I do — that you liked marriage so 
well, you wouldn't object to repeat the mixture. Well, 
then, here am I, properly done up, and ready to bo taken. 

Mrs. M. Now, you impudent man, you know very well 
that — 

O'Cal. It's a fair exchange — to be sure it is. You wan: 
company, and you're troubled with fortune. I want for 
tune, and am troubled with company. 

Mrs. M. Well, well, we'll speak of this at some other 
time. 

O'Cal. Some other time ! — would you lell a dying man 



28 HIS LAST LEGS. [ActIi 

that you'll cure him some other time? — let mo know my 
fate at once. 

Mri. M. No, no ; when we go to town, you can write 
to me. 

O'Cal. Writo! Why write, when I can talk to you— 
when I can speak a dozen letters on the spot, and you can 
look back a whole post-office upon me. 

[Seises her hand and, kneels. 

Mrs. M. But don't kneel, for heaven's snke. 

O' Cal. I'll be as pious as a broken-kneed post-horse till 
I have my answer. 

Mrs. M. But, but — there's some one coming. 

O' Cal. I ask an answer. 

Mrs. M. Consider, for heaven's sake ! 

O'Cal. An answer. [Drawing her towards him. 

Enter Rivers Jrom the Lawn. 

Riv. Dr. Banks I 

[Mrs, M. screams and falls on O' Callaghan's shoulder 
— Rivers advances — O' Callaghan makes passes. 

O' Cal. Another touch, sir. 

Riv. What — of the falling sickness ] 

O'Cal. Exactly, sir. May I trouble you for a chair 1 
[Rivers places one — Mrs. M. sinks into it. 

Riv. ^Vhy, bless my soul, what a family I've got ! Are 
you better, Lyddy ? 

Mrs. M. Yes, brother, a little better — and how provok- 
ing this intrusion 1 

O'Cal. You, see, sir, she's still disordered ; however, if 
she'll only attend to my advice, I'll undertake she shall 
nave no relapse. 

Riv. Then pray do, Lyddy, oblige me by consenting. 

O'Cal. Do, my dearest madam — you'll oblige both of 
us. 

Mrs. M. I'm stronger now ; if you'll allo.v rr.o, I'll re- 
tira. [To O' Callaghan.\ Oh, you bold man, what am I to 
Bay to you 1 

O'Cal. What, my darling! why, that you'rL- mine in a 
week. [Exit Mrs. .M. through door, l. 

Riv. Well, doctor, you seem tn understand the widow'a 
easel 



•ccni i.l HIS LAST LEGS. 29 

O'Cal. Perfectly, sir; and I beg to say, I shan't loava 
Iter — till you've witnessed a change. 

Riv. [Aside.^ Why, his humanity is equal to his skill. 

O'Cal. [Aside.] A widow with a foituue ! I'm a made 
man again. 

Jlir. [Aside] Now, then, we're alone, and I can make 
my disclosure. — Well, doctor, Charles is so much recover- 
ed, he's actually strong enough to take a turn in tiie gar- 
den. 

O^Cal. I'm glad to hear it, sir. 

Riv. And if you're glad, sir, what must I be — what can 
J say to him who has bestowed on me this happiness ? 

O'Cal. Well, well, my dear sir, no more, thanks; I 
really don't deserve them. 

Rii\ You desen-e much more than thanks, sir, or the 
poor repayment of a fee. You must admit, lh;it having 
done so much for my comfort, I should feel a little for 
yours. 

O'Cal. Really, sir, I thank you, but — [Aside] — What's 
coming now, I wonder — any more good luck ? 

Riv. As a friend, then, and anxious to display my gra- 
titude, allow me to say, that I am acquainted with your 
unhappy history. 

O'Cal. The divil you are ! 

Riv. I know the subject is painful — I feel its peculiar 
delicacy ; but with a view to your happiness, allow me to 
refer to your wife and child. 

O'Cal. My what, sir? 

Riv. Your wife and child, sir! 

O'Cal. Why, you're dreaming, sir! 

Riv. That unhappy pair, who, for ten long years — 

O'Cal. But this is moonshine — I am simply — 

Riv. [Producing /lis card.] "Dr. Banks, o/'15 Rue 7ie- 
toire, Pari.i." 

O'Cal. Yes, sir. 

Riv. And consequently, husband of my respected fnetid 
of Guild ford-street, and fithcr of her lovely and accom- 
pliglied daughter. 

O'Ca!. [Aside.] Phew! 

Riv. I'm not surprised at your langiiage, because I kno\* 
your sad impression, that your devoted wife is unuort'>j 
of jour regard. 



30 HIS LAST LEGS. 



[A.-i U 



O'Cal. \ Aside.] Here's a bog I've walked inai ! 

Rii\ But am I to sufl'er this delusion to continue, wlun 
I know her innocence — when I know liow much sIjc loves 
you, and would rejoice at your return 1 

O'Cii/. \ Aside] What the divil am I to do? 

Rii\ You're silent, you're embarrassed. Thii.k, sir, if 
your wife have erred, has she not atoned — has she not 
been punished by ten long years of suffering estrangemonti 

O'Cal. \ Aside.] Well, I'm in for it, and on I must go. 

Riv. Allow me, then, to hope that you'll respond to her 
desires, that you'll magnanimously consent to foigret the 
past, and — \0' Callagkan pulls out a handkcrrkirf, and tnrnt 
away, as though struggling with his Jeclings.] — Tears! 
Oh ! that's a happy sign. Let them flow, sir; nature has 
no ice that defies a thaw. Let them flow on, sir, to assure 
rce that — [O' Callaghan, after another struegle, turns. 

O'Cal. Mr. Rivers— 

Riv. Yes, sir. 

O^Cal. You cannot wonder at my agitation 1 

Riv. Wonder, sir? 

O'Cal. You cannot be surprised that your question had 
eonfused me. 

Riv, Of course not ; you didn't expect it would be put 
to you. 

O'Cal. I own, sir, I did not. 

Riv. In fact, how should you; you didn't know I was 
aware you had a family. 

O'Cal. How the divil should I, sir — [aside,] when I 
didn't know it myself? 

Riv. 1 feel it all, sir ; but since — 

O'Cal. Of course, sir, since it's been discovered — and 
since you say my wife is contrite for her conduct — con- 
duct, sir, of which it is impossible for nio to state to you 
the nature — 

Riv. You will pardon and receive her ? 

O'Cal. \ After a sigh..] It's my duty as a Christian I 

Riv. Then, sir, I'm overjoyed to tell you, that she's on 
her road from London, and tliat your driugliler is in the 
next room. 

O'Cal. What, sir? 

Riv. Yes, sir — waiting for your permission to approach 
you. Never had I greater happiness than in biinginghcr 



■CEMBl.] HIS LAST I.EbS. 31 

G'Cal. But, Mr. Rivers — 

Riv. No, no ; I cannot suffer you to deny mo. V^ou've 
promised to receive her, and ycu shall. 

[Exit, through door, L. 

O'Cal. The divil fly off with him ! In the next room? 
By my soul, then, I'm settled within the next minute ! I 
em ruined entirely, and all with good luck. An hour ago 
I hadn't a home for my head, or a friend to my back, and 
now I've got a family ready made to my hands. What's 
to be (Vone ? The girl, of course, must know her father ; 
she will expose me on the spot, and — by my honour, she's 
coming. Oh, it's all up with rac ! here's my old luck I 
I'm a lost man ! I'm mined ! I'm done for ! I'm — 

Rivers leads in Julia from door, l. 

Jul. Is it possible ! — my dear, dear father ! 

\Rushcs into his arms, 

O'Cal. [Aside.] It's all right, by Jupiter ! 

Riv. [Aside.] 'rhis scene repays me for all my efforts. 

O'Cal. My beloved child, do we meet again ? 

Jul. The happiness is mutual, be assured. 

O'Cal. Stop, let me gaze upon you. Oh, how like youj 
mother. 

Rio. [Jlside.] A joy like this is too sacred to be intrud- 
ed on. We want now but the mother to arrive, and the 
good will be complete. [Exit through, dour, i.. 

O'Cal. My angel of a girl! But how much you're 
grown ! really, you're so altered, I can scarcely recollect 
you. 

Jill. Is it possible ! 

O'Cal. If I hadn't been told you were my child, I ne- 
ver should have known it. 

Jul. And you, papa, seem very unlike what I expected, 
you look so much younger, and — 

O'Cal. I do ■? But then, appearances, you know, are 
•ometimes treacherous. You mustn't suppose I am exactly 
what I look. 

Jul. Why, very true. 

O'Cal. [.\sidc.\ By my honour, she's a pjiagon ; who 
wouldn't have a daughter] 

Jul. [Aside.] And to suppose he was so cold and distant 
Oh, how much they have been mistaken I 



32 HIS LAST LEGS. 



/Act II 



O'Cnl. And it's ten years since we parted. Why, il 
seems but a day since 1 carried you in these arms, a snail, 
ing, lisping baby. Of course, you don't remember the^-o- 
cait 1 bouglit you ? 

Jul. No, papa, I don't. 

O'Cal. Nor the ivory ring, when you wei'e cutting your 
teeth I 

Jul. Nor that either, strange to say. 

O'Cal. \ Aside.] 'Twould be stranger if you did. — Oh, 
when I look at you, what recollections rush on me. Dc 
you remember the occasion, Mary, when — 

Jul. Mary ! — do you forget my name, papa ! — it's Julia. 

O' Cal. J ulia — well, of course it is — did 1 say Mary 1 — 
I meant your mother. 

Jul. But her name's Susan. 

O'Cal. Yes — that's her real name, what she was chris- 
tened with ; but the fact is, when I said your mother, I was 
thinking of my mother. 

Jul. Ah — how happy, — how surprised she'll be to meet 
you! 

O'Cal. No doubt of it. 

Jul. But, papa, you never asked after John. 

O'Cal. John] 

Jul. Yes, papa. 

O'Cal. And who the divil's he ? 

Jul. Do you forget you have a son 1 

O' Cal. Why, what an unnatural villain I am ; 1 really 
talk to you, my cherub, as if I were a stranger. 

Jul. You know he's still with Mr. Jones? 

O'Cal. Oh, he's still with Mr. Jones, is he? 

Jul. And you've heard that Mr. Jones is removed to 
Clapham ? 

O'Cal. Clapham — I thought 'twas Tooting. And how's 
all his family ? 

Jul. His family ! I never knew that he was married. 

O'Cal, Wasn't he? [Aside.] I'm remembering too wmrA 
bare. 

Jul. My mother will tell you all about his bankruptcy; 
but we'll not think of that : to see you once more, repays 
us for all losses. 

O'Cal. It does, my child, it does. — By my soul, this af- 
fection's mighty pleasant. I wonder whether I shall be na 



»r«llEl.J 



HIS LAST LEGS. 33 



well off with her mother T — Julia, you cherub come to my 
arms ! [Eml>/ace! her again, 

Charles comet from b. 

Cha. Infamous girl ! 

Jul. Mr. Rivers ! 

Cha, And you, sir — villain 'Jiat you are. 

O'Cal. Villain, sir? 

Jul. For heaven's sake, Charles, do you ktow who you 
■peak to \ 

Cha. 1 speak to Miss Banks, who I believed to bo one 
of the purest of her sex, and who I see reclining — 

O'Cal. On the bosom of her Jather. 

Cha. Her father ? 

O'Cal. Yes, sir. 

Cha. Impossible ! 

O'Cal. Oh, of course, sir, though we were strangers till 
to-day. You know my history better than myself 

Cha. Julia, is this the truth ] 

Jul. It is, indeed, Charles — you see my long-estranged, 
but much-loved parent. 

Cha. Why, I'm amazed. 

O' Cal. At what, sir ) that the young lady knows her 
father ? 

Cha. I could not have supposed. 

O'Cal. But you hear, sir — and now, sir, may I ask how 
I have deserved the name of villain ? 

Cha. Why, sir, I confess that I was hasty. 

O'Cal. Hasty, sir! you break in upon the sacred privacy 
of a parent and his child. You interrupt the first sweet 
thrill that I have known for ten long years. 

Cha. But you'll make some allowance for my ignorance ? 

O'Cal. Your ignorance I I thought, sir, you belonged 
to Cambridge t 

JuJ. Dearest father, don't be angry with him. 

O'Cal. Well, my child, for yt ur sake, I will not. Mr 
EWers, though you've chosen to apply to me a most oppro- 
brious term, I'll shew you that it is not in my nature to 
revenge. I belie re, sir, that you lovo my daughter. 

Cha. Dearer than my life. 

O'Cal. And it would make you happy if y-ju could gain 
•iiy approbation 1 



34 HIS LiST LF,5S A«ll 

Cha. Beyoiid expression, sir. 
O'Cal. Be happy, then. There, sir. 

[He /lands her ocet to him, 
Cha. Is it possible ! 

O'Cal. Take her, and raay heaven bless you both. 
Cha. I want words, sir, to express — 
O'Cal. [Aside.] Now, that's what I ca\\ jnagnanimity t 
Cha. Ah, Julia — what happiness! 
Jul. And now, Charles, I suppose you'll not object if 
embrace my father 1 

O'Cal. My darling child. 

[She files to him, l. c. He clasps her again, 

Mrs. Montague comes from i.. 

Mrs. M. It is true, then ? 

O'Cal. Mrs. M. — Oh! murder! [Mrs. M. advances, \^. 

Mrs. M. The monster, to deceive me so ! 

Jul, Dear Lydia, congratulate me ; allow me to make 
you known to one who — 

Mrs. M. You may spare yourself the trouble, Julia : 1 
have met that gentleman before. 

Jul. Indeed ! 

Mrs. M. But 'tis some years since, and — 

O'Cal, [Aside.] Now I'm deeper in the mud than evor 

Jul. And wont you welcome him ? — do, I implore yi v 
—do, for my mother's sake. 

Mrs. M, Your mother's sake, indeed I 

,Tul, [Aside.\ Charles, what can be the cause of this ? — 
something must have happened. 

Cha. I think we had better leave them, love. Hang 
this fellow — I begin to have a strange misgiving. I must 
observe — [heads Jtdia out at hack, c. 

Mrs. M. So, Dr. Banks — for that, I understand, is youi 
real name — it seems that you're married, sir — married ! 

0' Cal. My dearest Lydia ! 

Mrs. M. Lydia ? — how dare you, sir, address me by that 
name 'i How dare you speak, or even look at me, after 
the deceit you have practised ? — married ! 

O'Cal. Well, but if you'll hear me — 

Mrs. M. Not a word, sir. I came to tell you that, had 
jou been, as I supposed, a free and honourable man, I wag 



■CE» 1.1 HIS LAST LEGS. 6Z 

prepared, sir, tj offer you my fortune with an unchanged 
aflection. As it is — 

O'Cal. Here's a tornado. I tell you, you're deceived 
and if you'll allow me to explain — 

Mrt. M. Well, sir, what have yo i to explain? 

O'Cal. Why, in the first place, then, my angel, that — 
\^BeU rings violent! ij outside. 

Julia runs in, follotced bt/ Rivers, i.. 

Jul. Dearest father, my mother has arrived. 

O'Cal. Oh, be asy. 

Mrs. M. [Aside to O' Cal.] Now, sir, what have you to 
Bayl 

Riv. [Looking off, l.] It is your wife, doctor, I can see 
her. 

J\trs. M. Profligate man, farewell, forever ! 

[Exit tJirouf;h door, R. c. O'Callaghan jmces the room 
— they follom him. 

O'Cal. Ten thousand divils ! — there goes a home and a 
thousand a-year! 

Riv. I can interpret this emotion. Your happiness at 
your wife's arrival is too great, it overpowers you 

O'Cal. Yes, sir — 'tis enough to be the death of me. 

Riv. Well, then, instead of your immediate meeting, 
what if I break the news to her, and give you time on both 
sides to prepare 1 

O'Cal. Far better, sir, far better — for if as you nee, sir 
I can't express what 1 feel to you^ 

Riv. Exactly so. 

O'Cal. What the divil could I say to htr 1 

Riv. Well, then, doctor, if you'll wait a little, I and 
Julia will come to you when all's prepaied. Now, cou- 
rage, my dear sir, courage — all your miseries will soon be 
over. [Goes off with Julia at bach, c. 

O'Cal. Ye?, over my head, and down they'll be coming 
If TDy angel has left the house without an explanation, 
divil a glimpse will I ever get of her again. Here's my 
old luck, as I'm a sinner. At the moment that I thought 
the storm was past, that the road was all smooth, and my 
team in good order, out comes my linchpin, and over I go 
•fjain. 



36 HIS LAST LEGS. Act II. 

Charles comes from r. c. 

Cha. So, sir, my aunt tells me that your •.lans was for- 
merly Mr. O'Callaghan ? 

O' Cal. Well, sir, and if it were ? 

Cha. Then, by what authority did you give my father 
the card of Dr. Banks 1 

G'Cal. By the highest authority — 'twas the only one I'd 
got. 

Cha. But if you took his name, sir, you had x^o right to 
embrace his daughter as you did. 

O'Cal. No right, when I hadn't seen her for ten years — 
wasn't I forced to be affectionate to keep up the illusion 1 

Cha. But you were not forced to kiss her, sir. 

O'Cal. And do you grumble at that 1 I kissed the girl 
solely to serve you — and this is your gratitude ! 

Cha. Gratitude, indeed ! — however, it's all over now. 
By taking this doctor's name, you've ruined all. Here's 
his wife arrived — she must know you, if Julia didn't, so 
the result will be that we shall be both exposed and turn- 
ed out of the house. 

John runs m from garden, c. 

John. I beg pardon, sir — but here's an old gentleman 
been knocked down by the London coach, so 1 told them 
to bring him to you. [Goes out again. 

O'Cal. What's that 1 

Cha. Ha ! ha ! — now, I say, old fellow, you've got a job 
in earnest. [Exit through door, l. 

O'Cal. Well, now, I suppose things have come to a 
cliinax — what with a man who wants a surgeon, and a wo- 
man who wants a husband, I wonder which party I'ni 
most likely to satisfy. What's to be done 1 — I see but one 
way — to run to the inn, write a letter to Lydia, and ex- 
plain everything. I will, I won't delay a moment — I'll 
mn every step, and — [Going out at back. 

John and Robin enter, supporti?tg Dr. Banks, l. c. 

Dr. Banlis, by all that's marvellous! 

Dr. B, Is it possible ! my fellow passenger t 

[They place him in a chm*. 



SCERC I.J HIS LAST LEGS. 37 

(yCal. What's tVie matteT, sir — is your nejk bioko! 

Dr. B. No, thank heaven — nothing broken. 

O'Cul. You're quite sure of that, you're quite positive 
you don't want a surgeon 1 

Dr. B. Quite so. 

O'Cal. My dear sir, \iomii phased I am to heai it. , oha 
you may leave us. [Exeunt Servants, l. c.J And row, sir, 
that tiie fright is over, 1 dare say you are surprised to see 
me liere \ 

Dr. B. I am, indeed, sir; but not less gratified, since it 
may be in your power to do me the greatest service. 

O'CliI. Indeed! then I beg you'll name it, and liave no 
modesty. 

Dr. B. You're aware, perhaps, I have a daughter in this 
house, who has been parted from me many years — 

O'Cal. 1 have heard so. 

Dr. B. To learn if she will go back with me to France, 
has brought me to this country. This I know can only be 
accomplished by a private meeting — and this meeting, 
perhaps, it's in your power to obtain. 

O'Cal. But what if it's not, sir — wouldn't your wife do 
as well ] 

Dr. B. My wife — no, sir ; she is a person I can never 
look upon again. 

O'Cal. Well, sir, of course, I can't refuse you — but as 
the way to manage it must be considered, perhaps, for 

fc present, you'll enter this room. 

Dr. B. This room ? 

O'Cul. There you'll not be interrupted, and — 

Dr. B. I may rest, then, on your friendship r 

O'Cal. You may, sir, and in the mean time you can rest 
0(1 that sofa. [Dr. Banks enters room, r.J A thought strikes 
me — here's this man and woman that have been parted 
for ten years, now only parted by ten paces ; estranged, 
perhaps, the whole while for want of e.xplanation. Isn't 
It ray duty, then, to bring them together, and give them a 
chance of confessing their folly — it is; but stop, what if, 
when brought together, my philanthropic wi.sh should be 
defeated ? What, if these bodies, like a couple in che- 
mistry, having exhausted their attraction, should exhibit 
repulsion 1 Why, then, I'll lock the door till tlie fernifnl 
is over, ar>d see ' f I can't produce a new romhination. 



%i HIS LAST LEGS. [A n If 

Eiita- EivEus J'/om l. c. 

Rlv. Joy, d.jctor, joy ! I've discharged my task. I'vm 
disclosed all tc your wife, and she waits to approach you 
in a tumult of happiness. 

O'Cal. She does? 

Riv. You have only to go to her, and — 

O'Cal. Why, upon reflection, I think not, sir. 

Hiv. No — 1 hope you don't waver? 

O'Cah Not I, sir ; if you'll be kind enough to step for 
Mrs. Banks. In that room shell Jind her hushand. 

Riv. Never did I deliver a more welcome message. 

[Exit through door, i,. c. 

O'Cal. Now, then, to use the language of history, I per- 
ceive the approach of a domestic convulsion. There'll 
be as fine a fight in that room presently, as the renowned 
•encounter between the lion Nero and the dog Billy — where 
■»hall I go to witness it? Eh, that sofa ! — the very tiling. 
They're coming — but stop, I'll first give my friend a hint. 
[Opens the door, R., and speaks in a low voice.] Now, sir, 
prepare yourself, the lady is approaching. [Retreats, l. 

Rivers comes from c, supporting Mrs. Banks, ichose head 
is on his shoulder. 

Riv. Now, courage — courage, my dear madam, a few 
Bteps more, and you are there. You must remember, you 
do not go to him with any doubt ; he is anxious to meet 
you, anxious to fold you to his bosom, and banish every 
difference. [She pauses a moment, then enters mom, k. — he 
closes the door and listens.] Now for their mefeting. There's 
the window that opens on the lawn — capital. I'll step 
round there, and witness all that passes. [Exit at hack, vu 
o, O' Cal/aghan comes from, behind the sofa, l.. 

O'Cal. All silent still — what a pause before a battlA 
I'm dying with desire to hear the first gun. 

[Dr. and Mrs. Banks heard within. 

Dr. B. Susan ! 

Mrt. B. John ! 

Dr. B. Traitoress, let me go. 

O'Cal. By my soul, it's beginning ; I'm just in time. 
( Turns the key in the door — Dr. Banks licks at it- 
Mrs. Banks screams. 



tCIHE I .J 



HIS LAST LEGS. 39 



Dr. B. Open the door, sir ; let me out. 

O'Cal. Let you out? — not I, sir; don't I know ytiu'ra 
a madman, tliat's not fit to be trusted, and an't you now 
safe enough in the arms of your keeper] 

Dr. B. Open the door, sir, or I'll take the law. 

O'Cal. The law, sir ; do you know what says tne law ) 
Tliat you shall live with your wife, like a good, decent 
man, and not leave her to live with herself and the devil. 
I stand here, sir, as the embodied genius of the law, as 
the voice of the immortal Coke and the illustrious Lyttle- 
ton, which says on this point, that a wife being flesh of your 
flesh, and bone of your bone, becomes boni/ Jide a part of 
your body ; which part to cut off is a capital crime, and 
subject to judgment ! " Cum rnpi siispcndo." [Pauses and 
listens.] That's settled him — he'll not be in a hurry to talk 
of the Icno again. They're silent — awfully silent. -^ 
thought strikes me — what if this old maniac should have 
strangled her with the bell-rope, and escaped up the chim- 
ney ! By my soul, I must look. [Places a chair on sofa, 
mounts it, and looks ihroiigli a fardight.) It's all right! — 
there she is, in a chair, rocking, ten miles an hour, and he, 
fixed as fate, looking ready to cat her. What's coming 
now, I wonder? On the next minute hangs my destiny 
— stop, he asks a question, she sobs an answer — that's the 
course of inquiry. Now he begins to walk, and she be- 
gins to bellow — that's the course of nature. After the 
thunder, we're sure to have rain. Now she begins to 
Bpeak, and he begins to cool — that's a good sign. She 
asks a questio^^nd he's forced to answer it. Better and 
belter. She^Pn only sob — he's compelled to soothe. Go 
on, my darlings. He says something kind, — she looks 
delighted. By the powers — it's coming; he opens hia 
arms, she rushes into them. Pililoo ' — it's all right, hy 
Jupiter. [ Wai\'S his Jiandkcrchief, 

Enter Uivers, folio wed by Charles Julia, ayid Mrs. Mon 

TAOUE, c. 

Riv. What do 1 see ? 

O'Cal. Tho human mind, sir, in its fii.est aspect, sym 
pathising with the happiness of others. 

Rir. Then, who's in tl at room with Mrs. Banks 1 



4/0 HIS LAST LEGS. [Act It 

O'Cul. Who should it be, sir, but he who iias a right to 
be, her husband. 

Riv. Which you arc not, sir ? 

O'Cal. No, sir, but merely his friend, who entertaiQed 
the wish that you did, to see his misery put an end to. 

lUir. But, but — how did he get in there 1 

O'Cal. My dear sir, what can it matter how he got 
there, if he has a right to stay there 1 

\Rivers goes to the door and opens it. 

Riv. Yes, Julia, there is indeed your father, by your 
mother's side. \ Julia enters room, v.., Jhllowed by Riven 
and Charles. 

O' Cal. And now, my darling, what do you say ? 

Mrs. M. What can I say. 

O'Cal. Am I the monster you thought me just now 1 

Mrs. M. You are, but certainly a classic one, for you're 
a sphinx ; there's no understanding you. 

O'Cal. And yet, if 'twas necessity caused my decep- 
tions, will you refuse me the means of my deceiving no 
longer 1 

Mrs. M. Not if I was sure of your sincerity — but ought 
1 to trust you 1 

O'Cal. You ought, my darling — fornobody else will. 

Mrs. M. Can you blame me if I doubt? 

O'Cal. Of course not; but you should imitate the law 
courts, and give your doubt in favour of the criminal. 

[She gives him her hand. 

Db. Banks, Juli.\, Mrs. Banks, Rivers, and Charles 
come from r. 4|^ 

Dr. B. Mr. O'Callaghan, in my present happy feelings, 
I can't be angry at your stratagem, but pray explain to me 
by what means you — 

O'Cal. My dear sir, if I have been so fortunate as to re- 
store your peace of mind, nevermind the means. To ex- 
plain would only confuse me, and, and — 

Dr. B. Tell me, then, what return I can offer ? 

O'Cal. Why, sir; if you're anxious to be even with me, 
here's my friend, Mr. Charles Rivers, is attached to this 
young lady, and if, now you've got back a wife, you've 
no objection to part with a daughter — 

Dr. B. I can have none, sir, if Mr. Rivers has not 



•vcnu I.] HIS LAST LEGS. 41 

Rip. 1 1- -certainly not. I wish, however, to auk you 
one questii.ki. [Dr. and Mrs. Ba?!ks turn away with Charla 
and Julia.] In getting your friend liere, pray, how did you 
contrive to I/lind his suspicions ? 

O'Cal. liow, sir? Why, you know my magnetic in- 
fluence, [Makes passes ivitk his hands. 

liiv. CHi, that way — that's enough. 

[Turns atcay to the party — Charles adrances. 

Cha. Wcli, old fellow, I find you're a trump after all — 
but, 1 say, I should like to know how you've contrived tri 
do the old woman so nicely. 

O' Cal. Hew 1 — why, in the way I did you. 

[Makes passes, then telegraphs. 

Cfta. Oho ! I'm satisfied. [ Turns to Julia. 

O'Cal. But 2' /« not satisfied unless the experiments 1 
have made this evening meet with other's approbation — 
unless, now the tide has turned with me, and 1 am restored 
to fortune, that fortune is enhanced by a permission to try 
my influenca on some of the fair and kindly looks I see 
C>ofi>re me. [Makes j^^^'f^ <'' ''''* audience. 

DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL OF 
THE CURTAIN. 

Cbablxs iiut. Dr. Banks. O'Cal. Mrs. fit. Rncu 



KM Pura Gold 



(Catalogue continued 

VOL. XMI, 
3?0 Ticket of Leave Unn 
■ SM Kuol'sKcvcDge 
SHI o'Nfilthel'raat 
ai2 nKTi'ty Andy 
1(3 IMraic- of Ihe Isles 
334 Pftticbon 
SU Mitlo B«refor>t 
336 WUdl.-UbUin 



^icond page of ci 
Vi'L. XI. ni. 
3:17 renrlof i-'nvoj 
ii^ l)<;«d Menrt 
339 Tt n Sights In a Hai^rooi 
Dumb KojofkUacibestvi 



3il Rt^lphcgurtheMoi 
&4:J Crtoketon the Ucarib 
S43 Printers Devil 
B44 Mvg s Ulv«r«loa 



511 Prnnkard 8 t»or-n 

:mT < iflt-eu VouraofaDnirk- 
;!H N'j ',*i irouKhrarc TaM'* 

3^0 Kvervbortjr'8 PheT^ 
Hamlet. In Tbro« Aots 
Uuule tt Uuiplt 



Prlcfl 31 

; or. ADlmated PIo* 

turr«. for tbe us« nT KnioMle*, .'V?liooU. nuil I'ubllo 
KxtiiblUoiu. ByToMVUicsikH. Price 21 

AMATEUR'S GUIDE TO HOME THE- 
ATRICALS. How I., gri them up. ao^ how to 
Mt hi them ; to irhlcb is adileil, •■ Hov to get op 
Tb-.itHcsls loaCoUDlrj Houso." wltb By-I.iiwi, 
selected Scenes, Playa, and cverythliig useful for 
Iheloformaliya of amateur socl«Ue». Price 21 

THE OaiDETO THE STAGE, by LcMait 
THuMASltkDE. ContalDlug clear and rull dlroo- 
kintng Tbeairlcal Kngnffemeols. with 



rof g.»lni!lhroudb 



comr''*ta arid THiuabltf loi 

Rebrar»alB. aecuriai; prop 

Oral appearance. &o.. Ac. PrLc I< 

THE ART OP ACTING: or Oulde to tbe 
HUffD. iQwblcb tb(] Dramallo PauloDs are de- 
iocd. nnalTzed. and mado en^f ot aoquireni(>Dl ; 
al«o ibe requisites necfuary for perforiuerv of botb 
sexrm. beroes, geutleniea. luvcra, iradetinieD, 
elowtii. herolaes, floe ladles, bo) leas, cbaractera 
ofmlddlaaad olda{e,ew. Prlo« I. 



MASSEYS EXHIBITION RECITER 
AND DRAWINO-BOOM ENTER- 

TAINT*ENTS. Hclnu choice Recllatluus io 
proao aud \crse. ToReilier wiih an unique colleo- 
tloD of Petite Cmcill.!!. Uramaa and Farces, 
adapted for tbe use of Scboola and ramilies. Two 

numhe-s piT number, 30 

Tbe two numbers, bonud la cloth, School style.... 7& 

THE OLIO: or Speaker's Compaofon. A ool- 
leciloQ of Keelutlous in Prnse aud VerEe. Dia- 
logues and BurlesqtK^s. compik-d fur the ui^e of 
Schools, Thespian Societies, eic, aud for Publio 
Deciamatluu or Keudiug. latbree parts., .each. IS 

DRAMA3 FOR THE DRAWING- 
ROOM. By Mibfl Keating. Two pi rta, each. iO 

PLAYS FOR THE PARLOR. By MUs 
K.KAT1.N0. Tno pofU each. 40 

ACTING CHARADES. By Miss Pt< 



40 



COMIO DRAMAS. forCoilew, Camp, orCablo 

(Hale Cbaiacicrs only .four pans eacb, 40 

DRAMAS FOR BOYSiMnle Characters only). 

by M isa Kbatihg 40 

HOME PLAYS FOR LADIES (Pemnle 

Characters only), complete Id three parts.. , .each, 40 
AN EVENING'S ENTERTAINMENT, 

an original Comedy, a Burlesque and Faroe 40 



THE 



5 Arriralof DIokens 

6 Black Ole Bull 

T Blackest Tragedy of All 



6 Old Dad aOabln 
1 The Ri»al Lovers 
B The .Sham Doctor 
» Jullr Mlllf-rs 

10 VtNlklhsaDdhlsDiDab 

11 The Quack '(octor 
11 The Mystic Spell 

13 The Black Statue 

14 UtieleJeff 

1& Tbe MlschleToos Nliti^er 



ETHIOPIAN 

(NEW SERIES.) 
8 Tom KDd Jerry, and Who' 



D RAMA. 



11 Upper 1 
13 Hip Va 



u tbeChtc 



15 KuDHlug tiie Blockade 
Ifl Jet-mcs the Poet 
17 Intelllgance Offloe 
13 Echo Bao'i 



irgiuia Mummy 



it LesUi 

2: New Te>r's Calls 

■ii Troublesome Sorrant 

29 Great Arrival 

SO KnomstoLet 

31 Blark Crook Barlesqai 

33 Ticket Taker 



50 Cor»lci 

51 Deaf 
bi Cha11<.' 
63 DeTr^ 



; Price for Old 
From iho Owl Train 



Tony Benier's Parlor Fantomimes.— In Ten Parts, 25 Cts. each. 



Sleeker, Esq. Uow ■ 



t AtTTHOB. By Sylvester 



THE FRISK T CoBBi:.CR; 



•> PRnasiKis or P avt 



No. II.-THKRrSKA 
TMK SCHOOLMASTt 

STATVt Bl^n «mk ; 

No, IIL-M. Deck 
Fete. Thk DKMOt 
Family. RobkrtU. 

No. rv.— Jocko r* 

Hlachleroas MoDker. Thk OoNaCHlHT; or. How tc 
ATotd Ihe Draft. Thv Maoio Fuute; or, Tbe Ma- 



or, TbeMlsfortuuef of J 
No. VT.— GoDFN'^Ki; 

THE £\CHAXT>,DilOR 
No. VIT.-ThkSuij>i» 

Spite of Himself. Sir 

Ilungartan BeaUezvous, 
No, VIII.-TiiK ViLLAGK Ghost: 

Murder both F..iMid t)'it. THE Pair 

or.TbeGoofi Wife s Three Wlabes. 
No. IX.— Thk K08K or Sharon; or, 

Ftsbertnaa. Pongo. THk l.sTEt.i,iOt: 

tbe Uofortunaie Overseer. 
No. X.-Mons TeiJPKT thk D4?«ci> 



the Sbators of Wllnau. 
or. Tbe Witobes' Gift. 
■on LOTP : or, A Hero Io 
iN'B UiflHAPs; or, Tho 



Samuel French, PubUsher, 



lay of tbe abon scot by Mall or Bxprvas, on reeelpl of price. 



1^2 .Nassau Street (Up Stai^u). 



5^:51!.' '■* V J. V .-) M . ^ 1 — •— ! g?g^ 

FRENCH'S MINOR DRAMA. 

Price 16 Oenta eacli-— Boxmd "VolmnoB $1. 26. 



«Bo 






The l.d 
f "^b* ?ead Shot 
ft his l-a'st Le<?« 
T Thfl lav'tih\« Prince 
STheUoMeu Farmer 

vnr. II. 
»PrMe or the Market 

10 I'oe.) Up 

11 The IrUh Tutor 

i Tho Bmrrack Room 
1$ Luke the Laborer 
H &«antf aod tbo BcMt 
15 8t. Patrick iKri 
18 Ctjitaiu yf Ibe tt'atcll 

1 VOL. ni. 

17 The Secret I p»ra 

I 18 White Hone of Ox* Pep- 
) Jaooblio 
20 The Bottlo 
SI Ri)x and CoK 
ibooztlui; 

34 Bobert Macaire 
VOL, IV. 



VOL 

71 Ir«lftnd and America 
74 Pretty Piece of 



PUe Pwuorti 
77 That Blecicd Baby 
7*»0uf Qal 
79 8w1hi CoKajte 
SOTouDK Wldwir 
VOL. XI. 
II O'FUDDlgao and the T 



4 VOL. XIX. 

T45Co1umbiit 

144) I^arlequlo RUebeard 



VOL. XXVTII. 
217 CrlQollDe 

k Family Fatliuc 



1 Dutchiuau'iUbui 



,i&3 I'erseouted DutoLmui 

VOL. XX. 
.'l53 Maiard Ball 



219 Adopted Chlt<: 
SDO«k's20TurDe<t llcaiti 

l2tl^k Hnt>:h In the Dark 

223 Advice (■> Hiiabcodi 
333SlkmcaeTwltii 

224 Seut to (he Tower 
I VOL. \r.]X 
'22s Somebody Klfs 



, alaing thf Wind 

tl slasher and Craiher 
Sa Naral Sogagemeuti 

VOL. V. 
8S Ooclcnles In Ca!ir«nil» 
rbo Speaks FirAb 
umoaster. Ptiriooo 
8S Maubetb Travestlo 
S7 Irish AmbasHadcr 
88 Delicate OroQDl ... 

8» The V ealherooak IrtoW'lIOAndy Blake 

40 All that Oliiteri U Not "* ' " '" '" 
VOL. VI. 

41 Giimflbaw, Bagahaw and 



84 Irish Tiger 

8iP. P.,or JlanandTIgei 

?« To Oblige BeMca 

87 Statt Secret* 

86 Irish Yankee 

VOL. XII. 

89 A Good Fellow 

90 Cherry an-t Fair Star 

91 Gall Breczely 
9i 0-. .emlmy 
9SUi1Ier rfMaid 

94 Awkward AtrWal 
9i Crosalng tl.c Line 
tt6Coajugal Leason 
VOL. XTII. 
97 My Wife's Mirror 
New Yo '■ 

iOI 1 wo Queens 

103 Thumping Legacy 

103 llDttuUhed GentlciDan 

104 Uuuiie Dug 
VOL. XIV. 

105 Tho ncmou Lover 
lUd Matrimony 
1107 lo Mild Out of Plaoe 
lOfl I Ulae with My Mother 



I Tragic Ro^lral 



|226 Ladlet' Battle 
3-j7 Art of Actios 
lA High LowJack k Game 228 The Lady oftbe L!oi 
'--■'■ -- - .|2J9Th9RlghUof Man 

1|J30 My Husband's c:bo> 
:28l Two Caa Play at 



{232 FIgbllag by Proxy 

I VOL. \X\. 

Ii'j.iaijnproteatt.'fl Female 
.!,i34Petoflhe l'«ttlcoaU 

i235 Fjrty and FIHy , boo! 
236 Who Stole the Pockei 
23T My Sod Dli 



VOL. XXI. 

161 PrAmoUt>D [ut 

162 A FasclDatlog Indlrl 

163 Mrs. Gaud to 

194 Shi'L'Hpoare's Dream 
leSScp.i ■ - 



:C*< l.sdy of Bedchamber 
167 Take Care * ' '" 



able lot 
^ n». White 

168 IrUh WMijfr [ Charley ;340 A Qolet Family 

voL.xxn. ^ VOL. XX - 

169 Yankee PetJdlwr j241 Cool as CiicHmoer . 

170 Hlr»rn Hireoiit 243 «■ ''rl-'\ 1 boagbtf > 
I Doublc-Be^'lod Room U48 Ju 



241 Cool as Cucumber 
Tboagbli 
Jum ^ 

172 Thu Draiai Defendod 1=44 A Blighted Belnj 

173 Vermoot Wwol Dealer |245 Little 'J od.Heklns 

174 Ebeneier Ventura iteri24« A Lover by Proxy I 

175 Prlnctplea from Charac-j«7 Maid with the^MIIkloi 



176 Lady of the Laka (Trar) !ii*8 Perploxiop Predlc; 



VOL. XXIII 
171 Mill! Dnvi. 
"8 Barney thit Baton 



1249 Dr. 



ITySwiB 



251 A Luckv lilt 

,,-y Bachelors Redroom |2-'^2 The Dowager 

1^1 A Roland f..r an Oliver 353 Metainora Barleaqoe. 

iSii More Blunder* than On ^"^^ *" ' a-..-.. « 



'<: 



45 Born to Good Luck 
'^46Kt88lQtheDsrk [; 

47 'Twonid Puzsle a 

48 Kill or Cure 



, _ to'76 

U'J Eomanoe snder Dtfflcul 

VOL. X V. 
US One Coat for 2 Suite 



54 Dreamn of »el«*lc 
»iM Dumb Belle ['■^55 The Shak iT Lorera 

1 "r : 1« ?rerl?k Boy \i^ TlckU,b Time. 

VOU XXIV. I VOL. XSXIII. 

185 Nature and PhUoeopby i^^I ?** "j?"*** 
IseTemly the Tile ^* i.ii«i.i*- «. 



116 Ko : or, the torloua Ml- 

117 Coroner'H Inquiahioti 

118 Love ill Humble Life 
- .nllyJars 



... VOL. XVL 

49 Bor and CoxMarrled endilZl Children in the Wood 

60 St. Cupid iSetUod 122 Winning a Husband 

61 no-to-bed Tom 



,<58 Ulralda 



6-2 Tie Lawyers 
b-i .lack^beppard 
54 raeToollei 
66 Toe Mi>L>cnp 
o6 Ladles Bewani 
VOL. vill 
i 6TMoTi,li,gCall 
I 58Popt.iugtbcQu« 
* 69 bear as a Post 



63 Brian O' Linn 
M Irish Assurance 
VOL. IX. 
65 Temptation 
68 Pa-ldy t^arey 
67TwoGreg«rIea 
ftS King Charming 
I 69 Fo-ca-bon-iss 
I lOOlookmaker'sHs 
I Tl Married Rake 



124 Make Yoi 



y Wife 8 Huabaod 

127 rionsifur Tui.son 

128 Ulualiious StriiHger 
VuL. XVII 

129 Mischief-Making [Mines 



Villil 



. Live Wo 



I in the 



197 Hpoctro Bridgroom 
11*8 Matti-o Falcone 
189 Jeu.iy LJnd 
l&OT^To Buszarda 
mi Uappv Man 

192 Betaj Baker 

VOL. XX\-. I 

193 No. 1 Boood the Comer, 

194 Teddy Roe 

195 0hji 
,196 My 
1197 heuisnlTlg< 

ghlng UvcDft 
199T1I'; Vi.ttJt Vanquished 

200 O'lr Wife 
VOL. XXVI. 

201 My Hurband"! Mirror 

202 Yankee »aud. 
20SNorali Crelna 
204 Good for Nottilog 



(ho Juktlc 
[259 A Soldier ■ Cotirti.h!p 




by Legacy 



135 *Iotblng to Su«e 
13C Wanted a Widow 
VOL. XVIIL 

187 Lottery Tl.*ct 



140 Marrle'l jiachelor 



255TWJS . 

2tfiSi3!t ■ 

"'&pev)Msn uooa jo*.* 
A Twice Told'Ialo 

270 Fee de Faacluation 

271 Revolutionary Soldiei 
Man Wlihouta Heal 

VOL. XXXV. 
j7STb©(Hlo. Parti 

274 The Olio. Par 3 

275 The Olio. Part ^ . 

276 TheTrump''t<^i'J u»wgi 
277Seelni! Warrio 
273 Green Mountain Boy 
2.9 Tht 



143 Animal Magnet.-^ .. 

,144 Highways ai-d By-W»ji| 



■i07"\\BnrtcrlLg Minstrel 
•/08 Wanted. iOOU MlUlnen 

Vol. xxvn. 

1201- Poor PllcPddy 

J310 The Mummy "iGlasw 

|2ll l>«B'<»-'"'K<'ty»nrupcrii ™ -j-^^>,^^^^j^ 

^OL ItXIX. Itnre 



